The Beginning of Bad
by asdfgghjjjjjhgf
Summary: Blaine Anderson, expelled from Dalton, attends McKinley Reform School, where he encounters the discrimination and insults that reside there, and more importantly, the resident diva, Kurt Hummel. Reform!McKinley and Klaine


**I do not own Glee, or any of the characters used.**

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><p>"Welcome to William McKinley High School, officially called a Reform School, but to the students it's known as either Heaven or Hell. Here, the good students are terrified, and the bad ones are… well, lost causes. You'll learn to differentiate between the two.<p>

"Everybody here is tough. You have to figure out for yourself whether it's who they really are, or if it's all an act. People get terrorized all the time here; being 'tough' is a form of self defence."

The young man at his side looked up at him thoughtfully, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans.

"What are you then?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"You'll just have to figure that out, won't you?" Kurt said primly, holding his head high.

A smirk crossed his face, and he ran a hand through the unruly curls that covered his head. They strolled down the hallway together, ignoring the shouts and calls that emerged from the classrooms either side of them.

"Is that normal?" the boy asked, jerking his head to the doors.

"Yes. Why, is it too loud for you?" Kurt mocked in a sarcastic tone.

"No. At my old school, if you made a noise, you were punished." He suddenly grinned, "I've got many horrendous stories to tell from those punishments.'

Kurt didn't hear the last part of his sentence – he was too busy admiring how good the boy looked when he was smiling. His hazel eyes lit up and his pearly white teeth shone.

"The teachers here don't care – which means people can do whatever they want. What school did you go to before?"

"Dalton Academy. The teachers couldn't handle me, so they expelled me." He said with a smirk.

Kurt felt a sinking feeling. So here was another corrupt one. He hoped he might have found someone who wasn't as _bad_ as the others. Kurt cursed his imagination, his ability to hope. All it did was making him feel like shit. Which sucked, because he shouldn't be bringing himself down, that was the job of the Neanderthals that roamed the corridors.

Kurt raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment.

"So, um, McKinley is well known for its football team and the Cheerios, the cheerleaders. They win pretty much everything because they're all ruthless and everyone else is shit scared of them." Kurt explained, continuing with his politically not-correct tour of the school.

"So basically, the admin love them for winning and bringing in money, and in return, they're allowed to do whatever they want."

"How is the cheerleading team ruthless?" the guy – he still didn't know his name – scoffed.

"You'd be surprised. Their coach, Sue Sylvester is a complete nut case. She says that she empowers the Cheerios to live in a state of constant fear by creating an environment of irrational, random terror. The Cheerios learn from that, and put it into practise."

"Oh," he blinked, accompanied by an odd facial movement that shouldn't have looked as cute as it did.

"What's your name again?"

"Blaine." He said standing up straight.

"Well, Blaine, I guess we'll just have to see where you end up – pushing, or being pushed. Judging on your size, I'm leaning towards the latter."

"And what one would you be, Kurt?" he asked cooling, raising his eyebrows.

He smiled triumphantly when he saw Kurt's face drop.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you from the big bad wolf," he said, a smirk twisting his lips.

Kurt rolled his eyes dramatically.

Stopping in front of the next classroom, he gestured to the door.

"This is your next class I think. Spanish?" he received a nod from Blaine. "Okay, we have Mr. Shuester."

"You have it too?" Blaine asked.

Was that a little bit of hope Kurt detected in his tone?

He nodded and entered the room.

As usual the class was in complete chaos. The jocks sat at the back of the class, throwing various objects at the students doing work, their legs lying all over the desks. They yelled and laughed over the teacher's words, showing off for the fit looking girls who sat in front of them. There was a bunch of about seven of them, although a definite hierarchy could be seen. They all had the same shiny quality to their hair, and they flipped it the same way. But the three in the middle had an air about them that made them seem higher.

After a particularly loud yell, the three looked over, conveying their disgust in a single glance.

"That's Brittany, Santana and Quinn. Head cheerleaders." Kurt muttered to Blaine after seeing the direction of his eyes.

Blaine nodded mutely, his eyes trailing over the room, and the people in it. It was the typical classroom. The nerds at the front, the trouble makers at the back. The stereotypes were in full force, providing the jocks, cheerleaders, theatre geeks, and nerds.

"Kurt!" the teacher called, his relief evident in his voice.

"Mr. Shue, this is Blaine. He just transferred."

"Hello Blaine, welcome to McKinley. Alright everyone!" he yelled, clapping his hands.

Reluctantly, the class quietened, but mutters could still be heard throughout the room.

"This is Blaine, he's new. I expect you all to make him feel welcome."

There was an explosion of snickering.

Blaine waited as the class judged him. He knew it would happen. He imagined what they would be seeing now. A reasonably short young man, mussed, curly hair and a small amount of stubble coating his jaw line. A leather jacket covering his white tee shirt-clad torso, and tight fitting jeans.

Whatever, he didn't care about them. Get in, and get out a few years later; that was his motto.

"Take a seat Blaine."

Blaine nodded and sauntered his way down the path, towards an empty row of desks. Kurt smirked a Blaine's strut and took a seat next to Mercedes, who began animatedly taking about the latest Vogue issue.

Blaine looked down just in time to step over a foot that had sprung out in front of his path.

"Nice try, kid," he smirked, before moving back to the seats and sitting down.

He put his elbow on the desk before cupping his jaw with his hand, a lazy expression on his face. Ignoring the raucous the class was making, he ignored the curious looks people were shooting him, and didn't move for the rest of the class.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! The next part should be up soon! Reviews are always welcome :D<strong>


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